I did not forget to inquire for the remarkable cave in which no animal can live, which Chandler tried to find. My guide led me to one near the spring and told me that on certain days birds flying over it fall down, overcome by the fumes. There, sure enough, I did find four small birds with the bones of various other animals. If travellers had been frequent here I could have supposed that someone had put the birds there for sightseers to wonder at; but according to the old aga I am the first traveller here since Chandler's time in 1765, and it seemed impossible that it should have been done on such short notice merely to make a fool of me. When evening came on, I walked down again to Yemkeni where the janissary and horses were. The aga had prepared a meal for me, and ate it with me, sometimes tearing bits of meat off and throwing them into my plate. As usual, all the Turks came in, in the evening, to stare. All next day it blew and poured, but I went up to the ruins attended by the aga's man, and worked hard all day long. I had bought a live fowl to try Strabo's experiment of putting him into the cave; but whether it was not really the right cave, or whether the violent wind and rain prevented the gas having effect, at any rate the fowl was none the worse after being exposed to it for half an hour, and we ate him with a good appetite in the evening. Over his bones the aga grew talkative, and told me of the real cave which was in the mountain, one hour distant. He said that inside the cave is a bridge, and beyond that a chamber in which is a treasure guarded by a black man. He added that he who should get the better of that black man had need have studied and learnt much. Many and many an adventurer, after the treasure, had died horribly in the cavern. And so on, with all the cock-and-bull stories universal among the Turks. But when I asked him to give me a guide to take me to the cave, he put every sort of difficulty into the way. I should need ladders, and there were none--horses, and there were none. In short it was quite clear he meant to prevent my going, so I gave it up. I did so the more willingly because I already felt exceedingly uncomfortable. The people around me were utter savages, and the country perfectly lawless. South of the river, in the direction of Denisli or Laodicea, it was worse; and besides brigands, which were said to abound between Denisli and Aidin and would oblige my taking an expensive escort, the agas themselves had a very bad reputation for extortion. Moreover, my janissary was anxious, because in coming to Hierapolis we were already outside the limits to which my travelling firman referred, and he wished to get back within them. So, all things considered, I decided to give up seeing Laodicea (I could make out the situation of it at a very great distance) and passed on to avoid the desert country and dangerous neighbourhood." FOOTNOTES: [37] Later Sir Francis Beaufort, chief hydrographer to the Navy.